


Determined Draco

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Draco and Harry live together and Draco finds out that Harry's in love with someone. He's determined to find out who.  (AKA: The one where clueless Draco is clueless)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Unbetaed. Please be gentle.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Written for slythindor100 Christmas Challenge as a drabble series.
> 
>  
> 
> Rated M for Mature for the last chapter. Otherwise, it's pretty PG

"What's the candle for?" Draco asked as Potter lit one in the corner of the sitting room. The room was well lit and he didn't understand what was so special about this particular candle.   
  
"It's a Christmas candle," Potter replied without looking up at Draco. "Hermione said that it's a special candle that you have to light on Christmas Eve and your wish can come true."   
  
"What wish?"   
  
"Whatever you wish for." Potter looked at Draco and smiled. He shrugged before speaking again. "I dunno, Hermione told me to do it so I did. If I won't she'll just give me a lecture and--"   
  
Draco laughed. "It's been ten years and you still act like you're so scared of her."   
  
Potter shrugged again. "Well, you're scared of her, too."   
  
Draco laughed again. "Well she's the one in charge of my hearing, so I have something to be scared of."   
  
Potter and Draco had been living together for a few years after Draco was released from Azkaban on 'good merit' but still needed a minder. Granger was the officer put in charge of his case and she'd assigned Potter to stay with her. It hadn't been easy but eventually Draco and Potter started to get along better and better every day, eventually, even becoming friends.   
  
"So what did you wish for?" Draco asked.   
  
"Same thing I wish for every year," Potter answered, rather vaguely, Draco thought.   
  
"Which is what? Are you ever going to tell me?"   
  
Potter shook his head and that really annoyed Draco. Again.   
  
"Whatever, Potter."   
  
"Why don't you wish for something, Draco?" Potter said. Potter had got into the habit of referring to Draco with his first name, yet Draco never referred to Potter as anything but Potter.   
  
Draco rolled his eyes and walked up to the chair the candle was placed at. To humour Potter, Draco closed his eyes and made a wish. When he opened them, Potter was nearly gaping at him. "Didn't work. You're still here," Draco said.   
  
Potter scowled at Draco and then walked away.   
  
"Okay, fine. I'll tell you," Draco said and Potter turned to look at him. "If I tell you what I wished for, will you tell me what your wish is?"   
  
"Fine."   
  
"Really?" Draco asked; he didn't really believe Potter. "Swear it."   
  
"Fine. I swear that if you tell me what your wish is, then I'll tell you what mine is."   
  
Draco gave Potter a smirk. "I wished for you to tell me your wish."   
  
"You are such a fucking prat!" Potter retorted.   
  
"Well, fair's fair."   
  
Potter rolled his eyes first, and then he looked extremely nervous. "I wished for..."  
  
"For...?"   
  
"There's someone I love, and I wished for them to love me back. Or at least give me some hint of how they feel about me."   
  
"Well, have you told _them_ how you feel?"   
  
Potter shook his head.   
  
"Then how do you know if they feel anything. I thought you were a Gryffindor?"   
  
"Well, it's complicated," Potter answered.   
  
"Why? Who is it?"   
  
Potter hesitated.   
  
"Who is it?" Draco asked, now more curious than ever.   
  
Potter shook his head and left the room.   
  
Draco scowled at the empty chair next to him. He determined he was going to find out no matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

The more Draco thought about it, the more it bothered him that Potter would not tell him who he was in love with. Draco was good at keeping secrets, he really was. When Granger had given him the Christmas crackers to hide from Weasley, he had not told that to anyone.   
  
Okay, except maybe, he'd told Potter, and then it wasn't _his_ fault that Potter went ahead and told Weasley where Granger had hid them. If anything, that entire ordeal meant that Draco _trusted_ Potter.   
  
So, in turn Potter should trust Draco with _his_ secret.  
  
"Who is it?" Draco asked Potter every morning for the next week and Potter wouldn't tell him.  
  
This was really starting to become a problem!


	3. Chapter 3

The dreams were back.  
  
Draco had had such a great month or two when his nightmares had not bothered him and now they were back. The mind healer at St Mungo's had told Draco that his nightmares were usually connected with his insecurities. He had worked so hard on being positive and the more he had prevailed in that, the less scary his dreams had been. But now, there was something clearly bothering Draco that the dreams were starting to come back.  
  
Draco went to bed with the fear that he'd wake in the middle of the night screaming, and he was right. There was a man dressed in all black and with a Death Eater mask in his room. Potter'd opened the door and he looked happy to see the masked man. Then, the man had turned away from Draco and looked at Potter. Potter's smile widened and the man removed his mask. Potter could see who it was but Draco could not, and then, Potter _kissed_ the man.  
  
Draco woke up frantic, sweating and screaming, "No, Potter! Don't!"  
  
Potter came running into Draco's room. "What's the matter?" Potter looked frazzled. He was just in his pyjamas, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Draco didn't know if he was awake and still dreaming.  
  
"You were kissing..." Draco said, panting.  
  
"Who? Who was I kissing?" Potter asked, his tone was calm.  
  
"I don't know...some Death Eater."  
  
"All the Death Eaters are dead."  
  
"I'm not," Draco said, looking at Potter.  
  
"No, you're not," Potter replied.  
  
Draco shivered and Potter pulled the blank up on Draco. "Just lay back and relax, Draco."  
  
"But who could you be kissing?" Draco asked.  
  
Potter did not answer right away. He tucked Draco in comfortably and then started to take his leave. Draco wasn't sure but he thought he heard Potter mumble something on his way out.  
  
" _There's only one Death Eater I want to kiss._ "


	4. Chapter 4

It was Sunday.    
  
Sunday was exhausting because it was the only day Draco was allowed out of the house he shared with Potter and was permitted to go to the manor.    
  
He Apparated to the gates of the Malfoy Manor then trudged up to the front doors in the snow.  The wards didn't allow him to Apparate inside his parents’ house.    
  
This was going to be a very long and exhausting day with his Father; his mother, as always was a delight.    
  
He stayed with them for two hours when his father finally went up the stairs leaving Draco alone with his mother.    
  
"So how are things, dear?" she asked.    
  
"The same," answered Draco.     
  
"Really? I reckoned by this Christmas, you'd have some news for me."    
  
"I don't really have much news.  Potter's in love with someone but he won't tell me who. And I'm getting these dreams—"    
  
"In love? Oh, dear.  You really don't know, do you?"    
  
"No, Mother. He won't tell me!"    
  
"Draco, darling.  Maybe it's time you open your eyes."   
  
"Mother, do you know something, I don’t?"   
  
His mother raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Dear, there are a lot of things I know that you... don’t." 


	5. Chapter 5

Draco really hated games. It was one thing that Potter was hiding something from him, but now, his mother also was speaking in code.  
  
"Mother, I really don't understand—"  
  
"Draco, I have something for you. I was waiting for the right time for this and I think, perhaps it is." His mother stood up from her chair and went searching for something in the other room. She returned a five minutes later and handed Draco a ring box.  
  
"Why are you giving me the Malfoy ring?" Draco asked, puzzled, when he opened the ring box and saw his grandfather's ring.  
  
"It's for you to realise when the time comes," she said. "Now, let's have some tea!"  
  
Draco was utterly confused but he kept the ring in his pocket. The ring didn't fit him, his fingers were too slender for them, and he immediately wondered if it would fit Potter. _Would it_? _Wait, why do I care if the ring will fit Potter. It's_ Potter! _He’d never wear a Malfoy ring_.  
  
"What are you thinking about, dear?" Draco's mother asked when he'd clearly not responded to something she'd said.  
  
"I—uh—"  
  
"I think it _will_ fit him."


	6. Chapter 6

Draco sat in the overly decorated den in the manor. It was usually his favourite place to sit and think, and he reckoned that if he needed to think this over—this _would_ be best place. The house-elves didn't bother him there and his father barely came down to talk with him, then. After all these years, his father still respected this one thing about Draco, and that, above all, was shocking. More shocking than the fact that Draco wanted to give the Ministry ring to Potter—that actually—just didn't make any sense.  
  
He sat by the Christmas tree and stared into the fire. What did his mother mean by there were things he didn't know that she knew. About Potter? How did she know something that Draco didn’t?  
  
Maybe Potter had told his mother whom he fancied, but that didn't make any sense, either. Why would Potter—  
  
"Don't think too hard." A familiar voice echoed in the room and Draco almost jumped up.  
  
"Potter! What are you doing here?"  
  
"Your mother owled me last week and had invited me over for tea. I am unfortunately, tragically running late. I'd Firecalled her to let her know of my schedule but she insisted that I drop by, anyway. So here I am."  
  
"Oh. Good." Draco settled himself in the sofa chair he was sitting at and gave Potter a once-over. Potter was wearing his favourite jeans—well Potter's favourite jeans, that is—Draco didn't have any opinion about that (or so he told himself).  
  
"Good?"  
  
"Yes. I must speak with you."  
  
"Oh. Okay." Potter sat across from Draco and gave him his serious look. Draco was good at reading all of Potter's looks now and he knew that this one was genuine. Like, he really cared about what Draco had to say. "What is it?"  
  
"Have you told my mother who you fancy?"  
  
Potter looked a bit taken back and he only nodded. In the affirmative. That bastard. Why would he tell his mother and not him—Draco was his—his—ward? No flatmate. _Friend_.  
  
"I take it you're angry with me," Potter said.  
  
"Well. Yes."  
  
"Did she tell you who it is?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "No. She suggested that I needed to figure it out myself."  
  
"Right."  
  
"So why did you tell _her_ and not me?"  
  
"Well. I wanted her opinion. And she knows—the person."  
  
Draco's eyes widened with surprise. This really was just all too much for him. 


	7. Chapter 7

Potter must have seen that Draco was livid and he quickly added more information to his previous statement.  “I was just meeting her for Christmas drinks and it blurted out.”    
  
“You were meeting my mother for drinks? On Christmas?”    
  
“Last year,” Potter said.    
  
“Last year?” Draco nearly screamed.  “You’ve told my mother since—”   
  
“It’s just complicated, Draco,” Potter said. “I thought if I told her, I’d get over it, or she’d tell me I had no chance and I’d move on.”    
  
“What’s the complication? Is she married?” Draco asked, scowling.    
  
“She?”    
  
“The woman you fancy? Is she married to someone else, is it? Gods, do not tell me it’s Granger.  After all these year—”   
  
“No! It’s not—” Potter sighed.  “And no, _he_ ’s not married.”    
  
“He?” Draco raised an eyebrow.  “Really? You’re gay?” Draco asked and Potter nodded. “Seriously? With _that_ hair?”    
  
“Draco!” Potter glowered at him.  “This is why I could never tell you!”    
  
“Okay. Sorry, Potter. Bad time to bring up your hair,” Draco said, palms up as if he was surrendering.  “Tell me more.”    
  
“Well. He’s funny.  Charming when he wants to be.  He’s got this weird crooked smile thing—I used to hate it before—but now it’s like I can’t even _not_ imagine it on his face.  He makes me laugh.  Like really laugh.  I told you he’s funny, right?”    
  
Draco sighed as he listened to Potter and watched his face light up when he talked about this bloke that Potter fancied.  He didn’t know why but Draco didn’t like this git one bit.  Maybe because if Potter told this man that he was in love with him, then maybe, he’d take Potter away from Draco and that would be—Draco scowled again.    
  
“Also, he’s got these amazing eyes.  And they go all dark when he’s concentrating on something and wants you to think that he’s not thinking about anything.  He’s really smart.  Like, intelligent.  Probably one of the smartest men I ever met.  I can’t say he’s smarter than Hermione because well—she’d kill me if I did _that_.”    
  
Draco bit his tongue and tried to swallow the bitter taste of jealousy.  He ran his hand through his hair, and then Potter started talking about this bloke’s hair.  Really.  Potter had it bad and Draco couldn’t believe it that Potter hadn’t told this person how he’d felt.     
  
“Is he straight?” Draco spat out.     
  
Potter looked surprised by Draco’s question.  “No.  Not that I’m aware of.”    
  
“That you’re aware of?” Draco asked, confused.     
  
“Well, I told you that I talked to Narcissa about him, right? So she informed me that she didn’t think that he fancied women.  But she couldn’t be entirely too sure.”    
  
“So why haven’t you told him that you love him?”    
  
“I—” Potter hesitated, and then stopped himself from saying anything.    
  
“What is it?”    
  
“Well.  What if he doesn’t feel the same way and that’ll ruin our friendship.  I just—I don’t know. I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”    
  
“So why do you just wish for this person to love you and not just tell them how you feel? That’s really not very practical, Potter. How is this person going to know.  What if he likes you too?”    
  
Potter shrugged and that just annoyed Draco even more.  He got up to leave the room.  “I’ll tell Mother you’re here,” he said.  He was just about to go out the door when Potter pulled on his arm.  “What?” Draco snapped.  He really needed to get a hold of himself.  He’d lived Potter for so many years and didn’t care who he liked or shagged but the moment Potter started to _talk_ to Draco about it, it was starting to become a problem.  _This_ was starting to become a problem.    
  
“It’s you, Draco,” Potter said softly.     
  
Draco looked at him confused _again_.  “What are you on about now, Potter?” 


	8. Chapter 8

Draco scowled at Potter and turned around to walk away from him.  He had no idea what Potter was talking about and he was not going to discuss any of this with Potter.  Not for now, anyway.  Potter decided to follow him as Draco walked down the corridor and toward the grand staircase that led to his mother’s study.    
  
“Mother,” Draco said.    
  
“Draco, will you listen?” Potter said.    
  
“Mr Potter, you’re here!” Mother said.    
  
The three of them spoke at the same time.     
  
“Did you show him?” Draco’s mother asked and Draco didn’t know whom she was talking to.     
  
“Show him?” Both Potter and Draco asked in unison.    
  
“The ring!”    
  
Potter glanced towards Draco, looking thoroughly confused, and Draco found himself that he looked somewhat adorable like that.  Still that hair, though.     
  
“Oh, of course,” Draco said and fetched for the ring box in the pockets of his trousers.  “Here,” he said shoving the box towards Potter.  “Mother wants you to have this.” He stormed off and left the room.  He wasn’t really sure why he was so angry.  Honestly, what was wrong with him?    
  
Potter chased after him again.  They were back in the den and Draco took a seat in the sofa chair again.     
  
“Draco, why are you so angry?”    
  
Draco didn’t have an answer for that.  “Potter. I—”   
  
“You heard what I said, right?”    
  
“When?” Draco asked, frowning.    
  
“I said it was you.”    
  
“What was me?”    
  
“The man I fancy,” Potter said.  He looked surprised at himself for a moment then he looked up at Draco, expectant.     
  
“Me?” Draco asked.  He was absolutely confused.  “But we live together. And you told me you like someone else. If you liked me, why didn’t you say anthing? Why did you tell my mother? How long have you felt like this? Do Weasley and Granger know? And—”   
  
Before Draco could finish off his list of questions. Potter kissed him.  Draco was still seated on the sofa chair and Potter was towering over him, and surely, it must have been hurting Potter’s back to bend like that but he was doing it.  He was kissing Draco, gliding his tongue over Draco’s lower lip and probing for Draco to part his lips.     
  
Eventually, when Draco wrapped his head around the entire thing, had kissed him back.  He slightly parted his lips, Potter slid his tongue in, and Draco licked and sucked on it as if it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.  It almost was.  Potter tasted like strawberry jam and hot cocoa and it was amazing.     
  
He tasted like the familiarity of their winter breakfasts together when Potter would insist on hogging up all the strawberry jam on his toast and drink cocoa instead of coffee.  He tasted heavenly and Draco was losing himself in the kiss.  He pulled on Potter’s arm, Potter took the hint, and sat on Draco’s lap only deepening the kiss.     
  
Draco moaned around Potter’s tongue as Potter pushed down on him, making Draco’s back press against the back of the sofa chair and Draco wished how they weren’t at the Manor anymore.  He wanted nothing more than to take Potter home and kiss him until the New Year and maybe even after that.  


	9. Chapter 9

They settled on the sofa by the fire in the den, nearly having forgotten the world that was around them. Draco had almost forgotten that he was still at his parents’ house and if it weren’t for his father’s loud clearing of his throat, he would have happily lived in that fantasy.   
  
“Mr Malfoy!” Potter said, startled by Draco’s father’s presence, pushed himself off the sofa chair and away from Draco.   
  
Lucius Malfoy raised an eyebrow and then gave both Draco and Potter a look of pure disdain. “If you cannot be civil in public, I do not understand why you even leave our house, Potter. Draco, I expected better from you. I figured something like _this_ was bound to happen once you were shacked up with Potter, but, really. This is still _my_ house.”   
  
“We haven’t—I mean we don’t—” Potter was fumbling over his words and Draco felt bad that Potter was bearing the brunt for him.   
  
“Father. I apologise. We were being disrespectful. You’re right.” Draco stood up off the sofa chair as well and straightened his clothes. “If you’ll excuse us, we will say goodbye to Mother and be on our way. Come on, Potter.” Draco pulled on Potter’s arm and led him out of the room.   
  
There was no point in telling his father that this was the first time they’d kissed even though they’d been living together for years. His father wouldn’t believe them, nor would he actually care.   
  
“Why are we leaving?” Potter asked as Draco dragged him back to his mother’s study. “What about tea?”   
  
Draco stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Potter. “Really? You just told me that you’re in love with me. We were caught snogging by my father in his den, and you want _tea_?” Potter was clearly influenced easily by the likes of Ron Weasley.   
  
“I don’t _want_ tea,” Potter argued. “I just think it’s rude to leave like this and well—maybe you’re right. We should go home and talk about this.”   
  
Draco nodded and headed towards his mother’s study again. When they entered the room, Draco’s mother’s gaze immediately went towards Draco’s hand that was holding Potter’s.   
  
_Oh_.   
  
“If I had known that giving Draco the nudge in the right direction would work this fast, I would have encouraged him a long time ago,” she said and nodded towards Potter.   
  
Potter nodded in return, gave her a soft smile, and squeezed Draco’s hand lightly.   
  
“Thank you for having me over, Mother,” Draco said. They said their goodbyes and Draco let Potter Apparate them back to Grimmauld Place.   
  
Once they arrived, Draco hadn’t expected things to get so awkward so fast.   
  
“So, I guess we should talk,” Potter said and let go of Draco’s hand. He walked up to liquor cabinet and served them both two shots of Firewhisky.   
  
“You wanted tea, now you’re having Firewhisky?” Draco asked.   
  
“Well. Tea was to be polite. This is to be honest.”   
  
“Very well then,” Draco said, and took a seat across from Potter. “Let’s talk.”


	10. Chapter 10

They sat in their Christmas-decorated living room and Draco watched as Potter took the first sip of his Firewhisky and looked grim.  Was this supposed to be a love confession? Draco wondered, because it was starting to look like "the break up" talk already.    
  
"Potter, I kissed you back," Draco said; just to make sure that Potter wasn't upset about unrequited feelings or anything of the sort.    
  
"I know.  I reckon this all comes as a surprise to you."    
  
"It does," Draco admitted.  "But if my reaction is anything to go by, it's obvious that I feel -- I must feel something for you.  I don't just kiss any bloke that just kisses me. Especially, risk getting caught by my parents and deal with my father's disdain. Given how he feels about homosexuals."    
  
"Do you have any questions for me?" Potter asked; Draco figured that he probably just didn't know _how_ to start.  Potter was kind of thick in the conversation department, anyway.  When they'd first started living together, he would go for minutes in the kitchen without saying anything and it was almost always Draco who'd started each and every topic of discussion, from Quidditch to Quackery.    
  
"How long has it been that you've had these feelings for me?"    
  
Potter took a long--very long--time to answer the question.  "Feelings for you?" he said, "that's actually kind of tricky, really." He laughed and took a big gulp of the drink and then ran his hand through his hair.  Merlin, Draco wanted to tug on those locks so badly.  "I think I've always liked you.  I think I've liked you since we met, even if I didn't know it then."    
  
"Since we met? When...after the war? At the Trials? Ten years ago?" Draco raised an eyebrow.    
  
"1991."    
  
"What?" Draco nearly spilled his drink all over his lap as he heard Potter's response.  Potter looked serious though.  "You...what... I..."    
  
"Okay, maybe that's sort of a stretch.  I've been obsessed with you for--forever.  But I knew I was attracted to you in fifth-year.  Followed you around sixth-year--"    
  
"Nearly killing me is love.  Oh yeah."    
  
Potter sighed.  "I didn't know what I was doing.  So much was going on that year. With you. With me. My sexuality. Quidditch. Ginny... Anyway, I realised that I was in love with you after you moved in here.  After Azkaban.  After your offer to--your sacrifice--"    
  
Draco shuddered.  He still had haunting nightmares of the two years he spent in Azkaban.    
  
After the war, Potter had testified for the Malfoys in the Trials and Draco and his mother were given a pardon.  His father however, was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban.  Nearly four years in, Draco's father had fallen gravely ill and Draco'd wrote to the Ministry offering himself to replace his father in the prison so he could live out the sentence for him.  It was a hard decision for him but he couldn't see the despair on his mother's face every time they visited his father.  So, Draco had done what he thought was best.  He'd only been there for two years when Granger had showed up with a pardon, releasing Draco from Azkaban and allowing his father to live out the rest of the sentence in house-arrest.  The only catch was that Draco had to stay with a Ministry-appointed guardian and well, Potter had won the favour, or lost the bet. Depending on how you looked at it.    
  
"I'm not a charity, Potter," Draco spat out.    
  
Potter rolled his eyes and poured himself another drink.  "You can be really thick sometimes, you know that?"


	11. Chapter 11

Draco wasn't really sure why he was so upset. He figured that given that he's always so upset about everyone and everything who commanded his life that Potter's confession also seemed like that. 

Potter supposedly loved him, always. And Draco felt like he wasn't really being given a choice. He wasn't some Hogwarts Express Ticket just being handed out to wizards to do with him as they pleased. 

Why of all the days did Potter decide now that he wanted to confess? 

_Probably because this is the year you've found out and you've all about harassed him about it._ But, Draco was leaving soon, anyway. He was scheduled to live with Potter for a short time and that time was coming to an end. 

"Why now?" he asked anyway. Even though he probably knew the answer. 

"I don't know. I didn't mean for it to come out. But your mother insisted that I should do it now before it was too late." 

"Too late for what?" 

"Well, if you left and then I told you-- Maybe she thinks that if I told you before your term was over, then you'd want to continue staying with me." 

"I do like living with you," Draco blurted out without realising that he'd done it. _Shite_. "I mean you're a good friend, and all." 

"I can be more than a friend, Draco," Potter said softly. And Draco wanted to believe him desperately.


	12. Chapter 12

"Do you remember when we went to see the London Symphony Orchestra?" Potter asked Draco after they'd been quiet for a while.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"That was the night I knew...that it was more than infatuation. That it was even more than love. You were watching the performance—the Muggles— and you had this look on your face of fascination. And I thought that I could see that face every day for the rest of my life and I'd be okay with that."  
  
"Just okay?" Draco asked, sounding defiant.  
  
"More than okay. I wouldn't be okay if I didn't have that face in my life— No wait. I'm saying this all wrong."  
  
"It's okay, Potter. I—I know you haven't always been the best with words."  
  
"But do you believe me? Do you _understand_ , Draco? I _love_ you. And—"  
  
"So you're telling me this now because you can't take it anymore and you must have me? You want to shag?"  
  
"No. Well...yeah. But no, not like that!" Potter said, his arms flailing all over and Draco could tell that Firewhisky was hitting him. Hard.  
  
"Maybe you should stop drinking."  
  
"Maybe you should just come here and kiss me again. And then maybe you should tell me that you don't want that. Maybe you should tell me that I'm fucking mental and I need help—that's pretty much what Ron's been saying to me, anyway."  
  
Draco chuckled and got up off the sofa. He came and sat next to Potter. "Ever the Gryffindor," he said. "And you really shouldn't listen to Weasley, unless it's about work, or saving the world. He's not the best at giving love advice."  
  
Potter laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know. If Hermione wasn't—" Potter didn't finish whatever he was going to say because Draco was kissing him.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Kissing Potter was better than the fireworks Granger had taken Draco to last year. Kissing Potter was definitely better than a lot of things that Draco held dear.  
  
Potter, at first, was surprised by the kiss and hadn't reacted right away, but eventually, his arms wrapped around Draco's waist and they pulled him in. Potter licked and bit Draco's lower lip and Draco moaned. He was so glad that they were home to do this again because, at least this time, his father wouldn't interrupt them.  
  
Potter pushed Draco back into the sofa and Draco gladly obliged. He wrapped his legs around Potter's waist when Potter was on top of him and they gently swayed together as they continued to kiss and Potter's hands roamed freely under Draco's shirt.  
  
Draco arched up into Potter and Potter released Draco's mouth only to bit his neck and then lick and nibble on Draco's left ear.  
  
"Potter!" Draco huffed out in between his pants as Potter's tongue was doing unspeakable things to his ear and he was all but losing himself under Potter's grip.  
  
"Will you at least _now_ start calling me Harry?" Potter whispered in Draco's ear and his warm breath sent shivers down Draco's spine.  
  
"I want more, Harry," Draco said and tried to tug Potter's jumper off him.  
  
"Are you sure?" Potter asked. "I don't want to go too fast for you. I don't want you to regret--"  
  
"Are _you_ going to regret it?" Draco asked immediately.  
  
"No. Of course not. I've wanted this for a very long time, Draco," Potter replied and he looked into Draco's eyes so determinedly as if he wanted to make sure that Draco knew he meant business.  
  
"Then let's get to the bedroom, Potter."  
  
Draco felt Potter hesitate.


	14. Chapter 14

Draco pushed Potter off him and stood up off the sofa. He was painfully hard but he knew that he didn’t want his first time with Potter to be on the sofa of their sitting room. He offered his hand to Potter who reluctantly took it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Draco said. “I am sure about this and you want this, too. I think we should give it a try and you should really stop doubting yourself especially if you feel the way you say you feel about me.”

“But—I just want to make sure that you’re sure, too…”

“I’m sure, Potter. I want _this_.”

“But you—”

“I don’t love you?” Draco asked and Potter nodded and then shook his head. He looked confused and Draco couldn’t help himself and laughed. “I don’t know if I _love_ you, Potter. Yeah. That’s right. But…I know I feel something.”

Draco pulled Potter in for another kiss and Potter didn’t hesitate in kissing him back or even deepening it. “Harry,” he said after he pulled away from Draco. “If you’re so determined to shag me, then you _have_ to stop calling me Potter.”

“Fine,” Draco said rolling his eyes. “And I don’t know what I want to do—except that I want to take you to my bedroom. Maybe we’ll just continue kissing for the rest of the evening. Are you going to be okay with that?”

Potter nodded frantically and Draco laughed again.

Draco pulled on Potter’s arm and they made their way to Draco’s bedroom. Potter looked around for a moment at the chandelier that hung from the roof and the candlesticks next to Draco’s bed. He touched the deep mahogany cupboard and smiled.

“What is it?” Draco asked.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…it just…it still kind of feels like a dream,” Pott—Harry said.

Draco pulled Harry on to the bed and Harry didn’t hesitate in taking the lead. He helped Draco take his shirt off and then threw his jumper off on the floor, too. They kissed and kissed and kissed, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongue and each other’s skin with their hands. When it became too much for Draco he pushed Harry off again and started to remove his trousers. He tugged on Harry’s trousers. “Take them off,” he said, nearly whining with need.

Harry followed his orders and then they were skin on skin again, now, all the way, under Draco’s blankets. Pure bliss.

Harry took both of their erections in his hand and started to stroke them together. Draco only groaned in pleasure and his hands grabbed Harry’s arse trying to increase the friction between them. Harry was mumbling sweet nothings in Draco’s ear and his hot breath was making Draco lose all self-control.

“Yes. Please. More…” seemed to be the theme of the evening as Harry couldn’t do enough, kiss enough, to satisfy Draco’s ache for him. What had Draco been thinking all these years? Harry loved him and he had no idea. Now, that they were together, everything seemed to click. It all fit.

He’d been so stupid. But now, he was determined to fix it all. To make them work. Forever.

 

THE END.


End file.
